


Extra Spicy Autism

by Rachaelizame



Series: Autistic Neal Caffrey [2]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Ableist Language, Autism, Autistic Neal Caffrey, Gen, There’s reasons I think that!, but not in this fic, implied anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 22:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachaelizame/pseuds/Rachaelizame
Summary: Neal bonds with an autistic witness.





	Extra Spicy Autism

**Author's Note:**

> So many reason I headcanon Neal as autistic... and for my first fic I tell you exactly one of them and it’s in the closing line. Oh well!

“There’s a witness. Victim’s ten year old son.” Peter announced as he walked into the conference room. They were investigating a series of particularly brutal robberies and there was no apparent proof yet.

“Being seen by a witness? Doesn’t sound like our guy.” Diana commented.

“Well It’s our best lead. But the kid’s not talking. He’s autistic.” 

“Oh, autistic? Let me talk to him.” Neal said, perking up at something to do.

“Really Caffrey? You think you and an autistic kid is a good combination?” Diana said. Neal turned to Peter.

“C’mon, Peter. What’s the harm?” 

“You could further upset this kid.”

“Just give me a shot. Five minutes. The kid doesn’t say anything, I leave.”

“Five minutes only.”

 “Great, laughter counts as saying something.” Neal said as he strolled out the door.

 “No, it doesn’t, Neal!”

 - 

When they arrived they were greeted by a young woman with long dark braids. 

“Who’s this?” Neal asked.

“The translator. John is nonverbal. But he speaks sign language.”

 “Not necessary. I speak it.”

“What, sign language?” 

“Yeah. Learned it as a kid.” Neal signs along with this sentence to prove his point.

“Fine. But I’m still going in with you.”

 “Be my guest.”

They enter the room to see John staring down at the table.

“John, we are going to sit at the table and talk to you.” Neal began, before sitting down. John doesn’t look up. 

“John, I would like to sign with you, but you need to look at me for that.” 

John looks up hesitantly and Neal launches into sign language.

 

_You are a-u-t-i-s-t-i-c, yes?_

 

_Yes._

 

_So am I._

 

_Really?_

 

_Yes._

 

_Special interest? Mine is music._

 

_Mine is art._

 

_Tell me._

 

_Tell you about art? Later._

 

John frowns. Neal signs at him again.

 

_May I touch you?_

 

_Yes._

 

Neal reaches out and grabs John’s hand.

 

_I will tell you later. Right now, we need to talk about something different._

 

Peter, watching this all in surprise speaks.

“How did you get him to talk?”

“C’mon, Peter. First rule of working with kids, find a way to relate to them.”

Peter is pretty sure the initial investigators tried that, but they couldn’t get through to him.

“What did you-” 

Neal shushes him and Peter is about to speak louder just to spite him, but Neal points to John, who is frowning and covering his ears.

“I think it’s too loud for him.” Neal whispers. Peter shuts up.

Neal resumes his sign language.

 

_John I need to ask you about the thief._

 

_No._

 

_I’m sorry John. You have to tell me about him. I will tell you about art if you do and you can tell me about music._

 

_One sentence of thief, one fact?_

 

_Yes. I will go first. The Scream was inspired the day he was walking with his friends and saw that “the sky turned as red as blood.” This inspiration was long thought to be imagined until it was recently discovered that the sky that day probably actually was red that day as a result of the 1883 eruption of Krakatoa in Indonesia._

 

“The thief came inside.” John whispers.

 

_Good, John. P-e-t-e-r needs to hear you.”_

 

“Da Vinci was known to be a music enthusiast who incorporated musical riddles in his writings which must be read from right to left. He took Mama’s favorite painting.”

_The Eiffel Tower has a secret apartment hidden within its highest level. The apartment is owned by Gustave Eiffel—the engineer who designed the tower. How did he do it, John? Tell me more._

Peter watched this go back and forth for a while, amazed, until the whole story came out and John gave a description of the suspect.

“Would he be willing to identify him in a picture?”

“What do you think, John? I will give you two art facts.” Neal solemnly promised.

John nodded his head.

After John successfully pointed out their current main suspect, and Neal gave him the agreed upon art facts, they left him alone.

- 

“I didn’t peg you as a kid person.” Peter said to Neal as they headed back for the main office. 

“Yeah, you got me. I’ve got a soft spot for autistic kids.”

“How… cute.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“So what did you have in common with the kid? You both like art?”

 “I have no idea if he likes art.” 

“Then why did you trade him those art facts at the end?” Peter asked, confused now.

“We have… something else in common.”

 “What did you say to him to get him to open up then?” Peter was about to continue along that line of thought when Neal answered.

 “I told him I’m autistic too.” Peter groaned.

 “You lied. To a vulnerable ten year old. What happens if they kid finds out the truth? He’ll feel betrayed, and I’m not protecting you from his angry parents then.”

 “What truth? I am autistic.”

 “You are not.” Peter laughed. “Autistic people are… are…”

 “Are what, Peter?” Neal asked, getting mildly annoyed, but not showing it. “Not capable of what I’ve done? ‘Cause I can tell you for certain that they are. I’m living proof.”

 “You’re not autistic.”

 “I am so! I’m surprised you didn’t already know that. Didn’t look up childhood diagnoses when you were chasing me, did you? Besides, Peter. I know way too much about art to be allistic.”


End file.
